John Doe: Misplaced Identity
by Jewell Trim
Summary: Before he was one of the seven his life was an enigma. The story of how he met the others after a serious accident leaves him without his memory and without his name.
1. Chapter 1

Chris looked at the police report again. He didn't have anything on his John Doe, who was still in a coma at the hospital. He was hoping that there would've been some identification on the body, but the wallet only contained a few hundred dollar bills.

The wallet itself had some initials branded on one side in gold cursive letters.

The John Doe had been in a building that had blew up from the ground floor. The medics first on the scene said he must've been on another floor and the ground underneath him collapsed and he hit his head real bad. He hadn't woken up yet which was slowing down the progression of the case.

John Doe was in a building that was supposed to be demolished in a couple of weeks. Larabee wanted to know what the man was doing in there. It was related to the case in some way he was sure.

Sighing, Chris leaned back in his chair and looked around the busy room around him. The others in the police department were busy with their own work. Detectives busied themselves with paper work and filing while police officers walked in and out of the building. The sound of radios going off occasionally blended with phones ringing and chatter.

"I see you are still bothering yourself over that bombing of the old building." came Buck's voice from behind him.

"Well once the John Doe wakes up then I may be one step closer in solving this." Chris muttered as he played with his stress ball.

"Nathan was able to identify the other burnt up victims in the bombing." Buck grunted as he sat down in the chair next to Chris' desk.

"Was he able to identify the John from the prints he pulled from him?"

"Nope."

Chris cursed under his breath and tossed the stress ball at his friend before getting up to go down to the Coroner's lab to see Nathan.

Nathan looked up when Chris came into the room and smiled.

"I only sent Wilmington upstairs a few minutes ago. Eager much?" the coroner joked.

"What do you got for me?" Chris asked, getting to the point.

Nathan walked over to his desk and picked up a clipboard which he handed it to the detective.

"Pete Dickens, Robbie Smalls, and Owen Graf. They have been arrested a couple times for robbery, and trespassing."

"What were these bottom fish doing at the old building?"

Nathan shrugged and walked over to the body that used to resemble Robbie. Now it was a charred carcass.

"From the fact that these corpses are in fairly intact, they weren't near the point of the explosion. Most of these cracks occurred when the floor above them collapsed on top of them."

"Did the blast kill them?"

"Yes." Nathan pointed to the body belonging to Owen, "He was the closest to the explosion and blast seemed to have knocked him against the wall and cracked his skull. He died instantly."

"Okay then. I'll go talk to Buck again and see if he was able to figure out what type of bomb this was."

Nathan waved him off and went back to his own work.

Chris walked back up the stairs to the main floor where he saw Buck talking to the secretary.

"I don't see how you have all this time where you can stop and talk, Bucklin. The department is obviously not giving you enough work." Chris teased.

Buck spun around, "Hey you're back, and I do have enough work. I was just stopping to chat real quick."

"Well when you're done with your chat, I need the ID on what kind of bomb I'm dealing with."

Buck sighed and said good bye to the secretary and joined Chris to his own desk. Wilmington's desk was messy with papers and files littering the surface.

"I honestly don't see how you can find anything in this mess." Chris muttered and sat down in the extra chair.

"I prefer chaos. It prepares me for the outside world."

"Load of crap."

Buck gave a huge grin and began pulling up files on his computer.

"The bomb that took out your building was home made."

"Do we know who made it?"

Chris had been familiar with many criminals who worked with explosives.

"Unfortunately no. I'm having JD go and research the materials that were used to make it. If we're lucky then we can find out where those things were bought and discover who purchased them."

"Okay." Chris sighed, satisfied that the case was going somewhere.

"Are you going to go and see him again?" asked Buck.

Chris frowned at his coworker, "The man is a possible suspect in my case. He can wake up at any time."

"Yeah but it's been about two weeks now. I think you need to accept that he may be a vegetable until someone has the curtesy to put him down."

Larabee got up from his seat and grabbed his coat from his desk, "Well until I deem it at as a lost cause, I'll make sure the hospital knows your opinion on the matter.

Buck shook his head as the detective walked out of the precinct. He was surprised at his friend's eagerness to keep the John Doe alive, to the extent of making sure that hospital would keep him in a secure area.


	2. Chapter 2

Chris walked into the hospital. His black overcoat a big contrast to the starch white walls. He made his way to the third floor where his Doe was at. The nurses on the floor all knew him as the man who visited the John Doe who was in a coma. There was a police officer posted outside the room as well as one inside.

Larabee nodded to the man in the uniform before going inside.

The room was quiet compared to the halls and he sat down in the chair drawn up close to the bed. He dismissed the officer who was posted inside to take a break for his visit.

Each day he'd come in here and sit with the coma patient for two hours, hoping that he'd wake up. The doctors said it wasn't necessary, but that having someone there to talk to the man, waiting for him to wake up was good.

Chris didn't bother to tell the doctor he was here to arrest the man as soon as he woke up and proved to be behind the bombing. Instead, he was the silent sentinel.

A nurse would come in every now and then to check up on the patient and offer some water to Chris. The detective smiled and thanked her each time.

It was late in the evening when Chris sat up in his uncomfortable chair and stretched. As he was stretching however, he felt that he was being watched. He looked down at the patient and saw a pair of green eyes peering through the slits in his eye lids.

Chris' heart skipped with excitement, though none of it showed on his face. He waited and watched as the green eyes disappeared for a minute before coming back.

The man was obviously struggling to keep himself awake.

Chris pushed the nurse button and soon a woman came in. She talked mostly to herself, Chris was too busy watching the green eyes that never left him.

"Everything looks fine. I'll go and get the doctor for you."

"Yes thank you." Chris managed to say before the nurse left.

When he was finally alone with the patient he sat forward and began, "So, what's your name?"

The man furrowed his eyebrows a bit in confusion.

"We were not able to find an ID on you. Can you tell me why you were in a building that was set for demolition?"

Before Chris could get an answer the doctor walked in and began checking over the John Doe.

"The patient should be able to remember what happened, correct?"

"There might be some problems with short term, but he should be able to give a name. Things like this tend to happen and they eventually regain their memory. Maybe take him back to familiar places. The scene where you found him. Those can trigger something in his brain."

Chris nodded.

"So we found a wallet on you when we picked you up. Had the initials E.P.S. It's yours correct?"

The man whenced as he tried to sit up.

"Listen, we have you at the scene of a crime, if you don't want to be arrested then you need to find your voice quickly."


	3. Chapter 3

The man grunted and closed his eyes again. His head was pounding and the police officer who was asking him questions was only making his headache worse.

"I'm sorry." he grunted, surprised by how dry his mouth actually was. "Don't remember."

The officer didn't press him further but grabbed something that was behind and brought it into view. It was a bottle of water.

John Doe eyed it, watching as the man held it out of reach. Licking his cracked lips, he listened as the officer asked him more questions.

"Now I'll give you this, but first, you need to offer me something. What do you remember about being in that building?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to not concentrate on his splitting headache which the police officer who was asking him questions was only made worse by trying to force him to speak.

Sighing, he tried to bring back the events that led him here.

"I remember falling, hitting my head."

"What about before that? Were you with anyone? Did you notice anything?"

"No. I was alone. Why?"

"No reason." the officer sighed and handed over the water bottle after loosening the lid.

John drank as much of the bottle as he could in one breath before bringing it down again.

He stole a quick glance at the man seated next to his bed. When had first woken up, his first thoughts were that he was that the grim reaper, death, was here to finally take him to hell. When his brain started to register that there was an officer, and a detective no doubt, sitting beside him, then it was like a switch turning on.

The detective was tall with blonde hair and hazel eyes that looked soulless. The man's face was stone cold and if it weren't for the fact that he offered him something to drink after noticing that he was struggling, then he would've thought the man uncaring and cruel.

He didn't know what the man was talking about, of course he knew what his name was. It was…

John Doe frowned, why was it hard to recall. It was his name for crying out loud.

The initials were E.P.S. That could stand for anything. It might not even be his for all he knew. He didn't remember much about whatever building the officer was referring to, but he figured it to be where they found him.

The feeling of falling was fresh in his head, and he could guess that he had hit his head on the descent.

"Do you have anyone you want to call?" came the officer's voice, bringing him out of his thoughts.

John felt the need to call someone, but that he shouldn't.

"No." he mumbled.

Frowning, he looked back up at the officer.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"You've been in a coma for almost two weeks. I'm Detective Chris Larabee of the D.C.P.D."

John nodded, "So when will I be released?"

"Time will tell. Once the doctor discharges you, you will be put in a safe house under supervision until you remember or until we can determine who set off the bomb which knocked you out."

"You don't possibly think that I did this." John huffed.

"Maybe you aren't, but you're the only one who survived it by some degree and may have seen who did this."

"What, you're saying I repressed my memory?" John scoffed.

"I don't know if you're repressing it or lying. Either way, you are under surveillance because you were trespassing."

John took note of the handcuff around his left wrist.

Detective Larabee stood up, "If you remember anything you can tell the officer on guard. Otherwise, I'll be in tomorrow after work."


	4. Chapter 4

Chris pulled out of his phone and dialed the profiler, Josiah Sanchez's number.

"Hey brother, what can I do for you?"

"Josiah, I need any information you got on how to get repressed memories back and memory loss." Chris said into the phone as he walked to his Chevy Impala and got in.

"Your John woke up I'm guessing."

"Yeah but he ain't giving me much."

"I'll look into it for you."

"Thanks."

Chris ended his call and drove on home for the night.

The next day brought on new problems. JD was able to identify that the parts for the bomb was bought in cash. No one was able to pull an exact description of the man other than he was a white middle age man.

Chris tightened his grip on the back of JD's chair as he hovered over the younger man who was busy looking at street cameras under the detective's request.

JD pulled up the camera from across the street and pulled it up to the exact time to items were bought.

"Stop right there." muttered Chris and JD did.

Larabee pointed to a figure who was exiting the building with his head slightly turned to the camera.

"I think that would be my John Doe."

"Maybe he was buying something else." JD suggested.

"Maybe, or maybe he was buying parts to blow some low lives to kingdom come. Print that."

JD did as he was asked.

"But why would he? We checked his prints. There's nothing in the data base."

"Calm down, JD. I'm only going to question the store owner if this was the person who bought the supplies."

Chris took the picture and put it in his inner coat pocket.

"Keep running faces to see who else could have bought those things."

JD nodded and went back to watching the video.

Chris walked into the store and scanned the room. He was grateful that it was mostly empty so he wouldn't have to wait for the manager. Stepping up to the counter he flashed his badge.

"Detective Chris Larabee of the D.C.P.D. My colleague spoke to you on the phone yesterday. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions."

Chris pulled the picture from his inner pocket.

"Is this the man who bought the supplies to make a bomb?"

The man behind the counter looked at the picture for a minute before shaking his head.

"No, I remember that fella though. Real clean like. Gold tooth. He was coming in here to get a key made."

"Do you know what for?"

"Didn't say. It was a small key like the kind you use for storage or safety deposit boxes."

Chris rose an eyebrow.

The man shrugged, "The key had, 'Do Not Duplicate' engraved on it."

"Yet you did?"

"He paid me a hundred bucks to do the job."

Larabee ran his hands through his hair and looked around the store.

"The man who bought the explosives. He had a scar under his eye I think."

"Why didn't you say that before?" frowned Chris.

"I wasn't positive. I had both men talking to me at the same time. Their faces blurred together."

"Did this man talk to the guy with the scar?"

"Yeah. Real chatter box. Fancy five dollar words. He asked about the supplies the guy with the scar was buying and the other man looked ready to kill him. Then fancy man pulled words right out of his ass and talked his way out of getting killed."

"Thanks." Chris said as he picked up his picture and walked away. Just before he reached the door he turned around, "Did he ever say his name?"

The manager shook his head in a negative, but rose his hand up if suddenly remembering, "Maybe Eddie Smith. Something with E.S. initials."

Chris nodded and walked out. It was a start to a long list of possible names.


	5. Chapter 5

The John Doe watched the cop who was supposed to be keeping an eye on him. If he was careful then he could escape without anyone knowing.

Slowly he drew the covers from on top of him to the side and shuffled to the bathroom. He tried to keep himself from being too obvious as he closed the door and turned on the water to the shower.

After checking for something to use, he finally decided to go with his IV drip line. Pulling the needle out of his arm, he took the needle off and dropped it into the sink. Wrapping the line around his hands a couple of times he took a deep breath.

"Hey, can you help me. I can't seem to get up and the waters leaking on the floor." He called outside of the bathroom.

He heard footsteps heading his way and he looped the cord around the officer's throat as soon as he was in the small room. The man thrashed and elbowed John in the stomach, but he didn't let go until the man lost consciousness.

John Doe immediately started to remove the man's clothes and put them on.

He didn't know exactly what he was doing but he knew he wasn't safe with these men. Men he didn't know and most certainly didn't trust. The detective seemed on the fence whether or not to trust if he had lost his memory or not. The fastest way to find out his identity was to find out for himself.

After the clothes were on, he stuck his head out to make sure the officer outside hadn't heard anything and was still not watching. Creeping to his window, he opened it and climbed out onto the windowsill. Using the belt, he wrapped it over a wire that was connected to a building next door. Testing it to make sure it could hold his weight, he leaped and glided to the rooftop.

Landing with a grunt, he rolled a couple times before coming to a stop.

John gave a huge grin before taking off.

Reaching the street level, he kept a casual pace, looking for something in particular. It took walking down a while block before he found a car with the doors unlocked. Sliding into the driver's seat, he hotwired it and pulled the car into the traffic.

There wasn't a specific place for him to actually head to which created a problem. He needed a place to lay low until he can build himself up again. He knew a few things about himself. That he was cautious and didn't trust people. He was used to escaping from the police it seemed and had a variety of skills.

It called into a question what he did. Was he a criminal? A secret agent? That would be interesting.

First he needed money and a phone.

The detective had his wallet probably as evidence so he wouldn't be getting that back any time soon. He needed to improvise.

After driving to a place outside of the major city and away the hospital, he stopped to change cars and find money.

There were tables set up outside a little café and a few of them were occupied. Careful not to be obvious, he pulled a few dollar bills off the table that made up the waiter's tip.

He mentally apologized and kept moving. John had since removed the police badges and medals off of him and left them in the car. The occasional bump into people and he had gotten several wallets and roughly a hundred dollars.

John smiled and ran his hand through his hair to fix it while he looked into the reflection of the window.


	6. Chapter 6

Chris slammed his office phone down in frustration, "Damn it!"

"What's wrong?" asked Buck from his seat.

"He escaped."

"Your John? How did that happened?"

"Not sure but he was able to knock the guard unconscious, steal his clothes and escape out the window."

"Damn. I guess you can say we underestimated him."

"Oh I didn't underestimate him. I put him in handcuffs because I didn't trust him. He still managed to get out of them."

"Want me to get Tanner?"

"Yeah, I think I'll need him for this."

Buck nodded and got up to go find the tracker.

Vin Tanner popped another twizzler in his mouth as he typed on his computer a report of his latest job. He heard the door to the room he occupied open and he pulled out his nerf gun and shot at Buck.

"Whoa there, friendly fire."

"Sorry, I thought you were the person looking for my finished report." Tanner apologized and put his gun away.

"You finished it?"

"Working on it right now. Please tell me you have something for me so I don't have to do this."

"Good news then, Chris is in need of your incredible tracking skills to find his John."

"JD gonna help?"

"It'll speed things up for you."

Vin nodded and jumped up from his chair and gestured for Buck to go first.

As they walked Buck filled the younger man in on what was going on.

"So why is Chris so adamant on finding this man?" he asked after hearing everything.

"Not really sure, but I think it has to do with the possibility of him knowing the identity of the bomber."

Tanner shrugged.

Chris looked up as Vin and Buck came up the stairs to the main room.

"Hey cowboy! Heard you have a problem."

Chris handed him the picture he had of the John Doe that he had showed the store owner.

"I need you to find out where he is and I need you to tell JD to track back from all the street cameras he can find and see if he can find out where he is staying at."

Tanner nodded and went to find Dunne.

"I'm going to find out any information I can on the man with the scar that the store owner claimed to have exchanged words with my Doe." Chris said as he went back to working on his computer.

The rest of the day was spent running facial recognition on the man with the scar.

JD had tried to get a good picture of the man coming out of the store but the man seemed to have known there was a camera across the street.

"He couldn't have known where all the cameras were. Send me any videos where you see any pieces of his face. We can construct it through a facial reconstruction program."

JD nodded and began to work, "I also found out that the John went to a bank beforehand and before that he was at a storage building."

"Ok, keep going with that. I'll send someone to check the bank and I'll go to the storage building, see what I can find there. The key he had illegally copied had to either belong to a safety deposit box or a storage unit."

Pulling his coat on, Chris grabbed his keys to leave when Buck caught his attention.

"I think that the bomber may have bought more materials for another bomb."

"How did that slip pass us?"

"Not sure but he is being more careful this time. He bought the supplies separately and in different places. I was flagged by one of the owners who was friends with the store owner who he originally bought from."

"Okay, see if you can get any information from any of the owners and get a picture or description."

Buck nodded and started to get to work.


	7. Chapter 7

Chris grunted as he emerged from his car and walked into the Storage building's main office. The small room only could fit the desk that occupied most of the space, two chairs and a file cabinet.

The woman behind the desk looked him over before asking him want he needed.

Chris pulled out his badge and then the photo of his John, "Detective Chris Larabee, I believe this man has a storage unit here. I'll be needing to get inside it."

"I can't authorize that without the owner's consent."

Chris sighed and pulled the warrant he had in his inner pocket and set it on the desk.

"The key to the storage unit please."

The woman looked over the warrant and sighed before looking in the desk for a key.

Chris pulled his gloves on before using the key to get into the unit. Pulling the door up, he looked for the light that was against the wall.

Flipping it on, he looked around the room that was filled with crates. Larabee found a crowbar lying against the wall and played with it in his hands before prying open the first the crate.

Lifting the lid off, Chris looked inside and gave a half smile as pushed the rest of the lid off to the side.

Inside was a piece of artwork that had been stolen four months ago. No one had known what had happened and suspected it was art thief that had been stealing art pieces over the past three years.

Pulling out his phone he called for a unit to come over and retrieve the rest of the crates.

While he waited for the unis to show up, Chris opened the rest of the crates.

From what he knew of his John Doe, the man was really slippery. He was able to escape the hospital after being unconscious for almost two weeks. The man definitely had skills and intrigued Chris. He was interested in finding out who this man really was.

When the other police officers arrived, Chris phoned Vin to find out how the search was going on his missing John.

"Hiya, I was just about to call you. I found your man. Sorry it took so long. He was pretty good at avoiding cameras but we were able to pull some traffic cameras to find the car he was using. Anyway, he is hiding out in a motel. Should I wait for you to show up before going in?"

"Yeah thanks. I'll come by when night falls. Stay out of sight. I don't want him getting scared and go into the wind again."

"Sure thing."

Chris hurried over to his car and got inside. The vibrating of his phone stopped him before he started the car.

"Larabee."

"Detective," it was the cop he sent to the bank, "I was able to find a safety deposit box belonging to the John. Want me to bring to bring the contents to the precinct?"

"Yeah, I'm headed over there now."

"Ok then."

Chris dropped his phone on the seat next to him and started the car and put it in drive.

He was several steps closer to finding out his mysterious man's identity and the bomber.


	8. Chapter 8

Chris looked over the table full of the items from the safety deposit box. It consisted of four passports and IDs that all contained a different name with the initials E.P.S. The rest of it was money that estimated to be ten thousand dollars in cash.

"Damn. That's enough money to make a man kill." Buck remarked as he approached the table.

Chris looked up at his friend, "Did you find out any information from the store owners?"

"Yeah, but a lot that did. They all said the same thing as if rehearsed."

Chris frowned.

"So this belongs to your John?" Buck nodded to the items on the table.

"Yeah and a storage full of stolen pieces of art."

"An art thief?" asked JD as he came up to join them.

"Looks that way. From the first store owner said, John Doe is quite the talker. Maybe he said too much and the first bombing was premeditated murder so he can get these."

"And he ended up killing three other sad souls and missing the person intended." Buck muttered.

"As far as we know, the murderer doesn't know that John Doe is alive and that we have these. He might try and go after it when things die down." Chris suggested.

"That'd be awkward if the murderer runs into him. If he ain't careful your John can walk right into him." JD gave a light chuckle.

Chris looked at his watch. It was ten after eight.

"I'm going to go meet Vin and pick him up. You coming?" he turned to Buck.

"If you need me." Buck smiled.

"Can I go?" asked JD.

"No." said Chris and Buck in unison.

"Go process those pictures they took at storage. I'll need those when I return." Chris ordered as he left.

JD reluctantly nodded and went to work while the other men walked to the exit.

Buck rode in Chris' car to meet up with Tanner.

"So tell me what you're thinking." Buck asked after ten minutes of silence.

"This idiot is going to get himself killed even though he appears to be cautious. He obviously trusted the wrong person with his information and that almost got him killed. He has serious trust issues which is understandable in his line of work."

"Sounds like another person I know with trust issues." Buck jest, "But I was referring to names. Eric Simpson?"

Chris took a few seconds to flash a glare at his passenger before looking back at the road.

"Oh come on, you aren't at all curious as to what his name is? This man is like a freaking Jason Bourne or Ethan Hunt!"

"No he isn't. He's an art thief."

"True, but he has some crazy skills to escape the hospital and disappear for even a little while. Most criminals we deal with just pull some stupid move that gets them caught."

"Yeah well with his impairment right now, he can't get far."

Chris pulled his car up to the sidewalk and put it in park. "We walk from here."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So, I hope you've been enjoying the story so far. I didn't make any notes before this because honestly these chapters are short and you probably would rather read the story than hear from me. But I thought I'd say hey at least once before the last chapter. This story was a brainchild after watching some of the Bourne Series. Love watching Jason Bourne. Anyway, I liked the part where he goes looking for clues to who he was and that he lost his memory. You probably all know who John Doe is. The story came to me as a dream and I went with it. Also a distraction from doing actual homework (thumbs up). Fun fact, I only just decided who the bad guy was about two chapters ago (a day ago). No idea why these chapters are so freaking short other then the fact my readers seem to like asking me to write more and post more. So I'm doing that by posting short chapters frequently. SPOILER ALERT, THERE WON'T BE A SEQUEL! Enjoy the story and if you really really and I mean desperately need a sequel then feel free to write one and just say it's the sequel. I'm totally down for that and am curious to read some of my reviewer's work. Peace to all.**

John was exhausted and opted to crash in a motel room even though he knew it was risky. He would only sleep for a couple hours though to regain his strength. His body wasn't used to so much running around after being static for two weeks.

He didn't even make any stops to eat. Now he was feeling fatigue. His stomach growled at him as he laid face down on the bed.

Only a couple hours he told himself.

John didn't know how long he slept when he heard the door burst open and people stormed inside. He tried to look for an exit, but before he could clear the other side of the bed a hand grabbed his arm and pinned it against his back.

Grunting, he laid still as a pair of handcuffs were put on him. He could only turn his head slightly to see the detective before with other faces unfamiliar to him.

"I think you've had enough fresh air and exercise for today." Chris said as he pulled him to his feet.

"I can assure you there's no need to be rough. I'm not in any condition to resist." John grunted as the detective marched him out the room.

"Considering that you were in a coma state for two weeks and incapacitated an officer after being awake for six hours, I think continue to keep a tight grip on you."

John was pushed into the back of a police vehicle with another officer to watch him and the door shut behind them.

"You weren't the one I debilitated earlier today right?"

The officer looked at him as if he was crazy and he gave the man a mischievous grin before they pulled off.

When they reach the police department John was placed in an interrogation room. He yawned as he stared into the one-sided window. Waiting for someone to arrive and tell him what was going on seemed to take forever.

That thought made him chuckle. They probably arrested him but didn't really have anything to hold him.

The door opened and detective Larabee entered.

"What do you have to laugh about?"

"Well to begin with, do you have anything to hold me?"

"Should I start with the one you're aware of? You attacked an officer."

"So slap my wrist."

Chris sat down across from him and John instinctively sat straighter.

"We were able to find a little bit about you today while you were playing hide and seek."

John didn't allow his interest in this information to show in his features. He didn't want that to be used against him. However, the detective seemed to have already planned to do this.

"Why don't you tell me what I want to know and I'll give you what you obviously want?"

John frowned, "I don't know what you want from me."

"We know you were in a store to have a key illegally copied. The store owner was able to identify you. He also said you exchanged words with the man we're looking for. What can you tell me about the man with the scar on his face?"

"A man with a scar?"

"Yes." Chris pulled out the image he was able to pull up from all the different camera angles and reconstructed the face. "This is him."

John looked at the picture and frowned.

"I guess he looks familiar."

"What did you say to him?"

"I don't know!"

"Stop stalling. This man is a killer. He tried to kill you if that's a better incentive to talk."

John ran his hands over his face, "I'm telling you I don't know!"

Chris got up and opened the door for another man to come in. This one was older and smiled down at him. Sitting in Chris' vacated chair he began.

"Hello, my name Josiah Sanchez."

"What, no detective?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, I assist the police department when they need a profile on someone. I also read up on memory loss to see if I can understand what is going on up there." he pointed to John's head. "Chris asked me to do this to see if we can unlock some of your repressed memories."

"So you're going to go all shrink on me. Sorry but I'm not going to tell you anything."

Chris, from the corner of the room, growled and John smiled at him intently.

"That won't be necessary. I won't be trying to label you tonight. That's not why I'm here." Josiah pulled out the various IDs and passports and put them on the table for the John to see.

John lifted them each up and studied them closely.

"What's this supposed to tell me exactly? All of these are different; the names, the address and state. Means nothing to me.'

John tossed the last one he was looking at on the table and crossed his arms over his chest.

"True, none of these are your true identity, but you also leave some of yourself hidden underneath. Places that you've possibly visited that are significant to you or a memory. Do you remember anything special or significant from Ethan Sawyer from Boston, New York? Does a significant person live in San Francisco, California with Elliot Somerson? What business brought Eddie Smith from Atlanta, Georgia have in DC? Eric Strout from Chicago, Illinois. Evan Swan from St Louis, Missouri."

The sat back in his chair, "Nope, nothing."  
Chris slammed his hand on the table and grabbed the John by the collar of his shirt, "Let me tell you what I see, I see five identities and passports with various names making up your initials with your fucking grin on it. Now Sanchez says that your real name isn't present among these which proves to me that you're a criminal." Chris pulled out the pictures of the storage unit. There was a picture of each of the art pieces, "Why was Eddie Smith in possession of stolen art pieces, because I don't have to be a genius to come up to the conclusion that you stole these and are storing them under one of your aliases. We also found ten thousand dollars cash in a safety deposit box in a bank in Mr. Smith's name. So talk."


	10. Chapter 10

The John looked at the pictures of the artwork. "These do look familiar." he mumbled.

"Look," Josiah said, joining the conversation again, "You may not remember per se who the bomber is, but you're a con artist I can assume, what did you read on the other people in the store when you were getting your key duplicated?"

John frowned, trying to remember, "I did engage in conversation with the gentleman you are referring to as the man with the scar."

"The bomber." said Chris.

"No," John said to Chris, "the man was a bit rude, but from what I could read off of him, he was just your everyday hothead."

"A hothead ready to make a bomb."

"That man was fixing a hole in his wall that he created after smashing his hand in after a fight with his wife."  
"Was that so hard to say in the first place?" Chris growled.

"I don't know. You yelling made me remember. You know, bringing back repressed memories by reenacting the scene." the John smiled.

"So he yelled at you?" asked Josiah, bringing the man's attention back to himself.

"Yes, but it didn't get physical or anything. I was able to talk him out of thinking about doing that when I reminded him that it'll be another thing he'd be paying for. I also told him that a few anger management classes from me and he'd be able to control his extraordinary rage."

"So you were trying to con him?" asked Chris.

"Yes, but with good intentions. I did it for the wife too."  
"You're so giving." Chris said sarcastically.

"Was there in the store that made you feel nervous or made you suspicious at all?"

"After your man with the scar left. He actually told me that he got that from his wife when they were having makeup s-"

"Bring the conversation back up." Chris interrupted.

"The owner who was supposed to be making my key was a bit too nosey for my liking."

"Why, because he asked why you were trying to get an illegal copy of a key?" asked Chris.

"No, he was a bit more curious if I was thief and that I was trying to steal something using that key. I told him it belonged to me, but he insisted that he knew I was lying and that if I didn't tell him the truth then he'd call the police."

"And then you paid him off."

"That and I told him a half-truth story. Told him that the key unlocked something important and more valuable than money. The imbecile started to guess crazy things he thought would more valuable than money. I gave him the hundred to shut him up and I left taking my key."

Chris stroked his chin, stubble was present from not having shaved that morning.

"Ok, we'll take you over there tomorrow to see if you remember anything else."

"Uh no. I'm sorry but I can only handle so much insolence at once." John frowned and held out his hands.

Chris pulled the smaller man to his feet and dragged him out of the interrogation room and put him in a holding cell.

"Don't worry, maybe you can prepare yourself in here, and look on the bright side, not every person who gets put behind these bars gets to go on field trips the next day." Chris smiled as he slammed the door shut and locked it.

"Oh you can make jokes. That's funny." John deadpanned as he sat down on the cot against the wall. "Is any of this clean?"


	11. Chapter 11

Chris came in early to check on his John and to make sure the man didn't somehow escape. When he walked to the holding cell, he saw his friends all sitting by the bars.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked as he stood by Vin.

"Detective Larabee, might I assume you've come to take me with you." John drawled as he got up from his cot and walked closer to the bars.

"Why, I don't know, I kind like seeing you behind bars. I may just let you stew a bit longer." Chris smiled.

"While these gentlemen are all kind, I don't appreciate being caged like an animal on display to do tricks." John glared.

"I've been letting JD tell your John here some of his great jokes." Buck said with a huge grin on his face.

"It's like watching a dying animal." Vin snickered.

"A cornered one." Nathan added.

"Yes, we can all agree that I've been suffering from Mr. Dunne's poor choices in jokes, now I please be emancipated already."

"Oh, don't think that you're free just yet." Chris pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

John let out a frustrated sigh as he and Chris entered the hardware store, their hands cuffed to one another.

"You know this could also be considered paranoia. What are you afraid of losing me? I didn't know you cared so much."

"Shut up I find something in here to do the job." Chris said under his breath and only so the man he was cuffed to could hear him.

Larabee dragged his companion to the front desk and pulled out his badge, "Detective Chris Larabee, I was here a couple days ago talking to the store owner, where is he?"

"Oh, I thought you needed a way to get out of the cuffs." the girl behind the desk giggled.

"That would be nice." John muttered.

While Chris talked to the worker, the John looked around the store. He was starting to remember little things like where he was talking to the man with the scar and where he was forced to cough up a hundred to shut up the store owner.

Frowning, he pulled towards where he got his key copied towards the back. The handcuffs however prevented him from going too far and Chris asked what he was doing.

"I want to check something out."

Chris allowed him to walk, but took him around the store, avoiding anything the John could use as a weapon against him.

"Paranoid." John said in a singsong whisper as he reached his destination.

"What do you got?" asked Chris.

"Well currently I have a chafed wrist." Chris rolled his eyes, "I remember seeing something in the back in that office." John pointed.

"Hey," Chris called to the girl up front, "Can we get into here?"

The girl complied and opened the door for them, "It's a room where we dump everything. Cardboard boxes and old scrap pieces of paper."

John Doe began looking around for whatever he was searching for. Chris reluctantly was pulled around the room as the man felt the walls.

"What the hell are you doing? asked Chris after a while.

"I saw a hidden door here that was open last time I was here."

"That's nice. We aren't here to rob the place."

The man kept searching till he found the hidden button that opened the little door in the wall.  
"Ok are you done?" asked Chris, tired.

John Doe opened the door and found six packs of cocaine inside.

"Interesting, now what would a hardware store owner be doing with twenty-four grams of cocaine in his store?" John gave a mischievous smile.

"Where did you say the owner was at?" asked Chris.

"He said he had to go to the bank." answered the girl.

John's eyes got big, "What?"

"What's wrong with you?" asked Chris with a frown.

"We need to get over to the bank right now."

"Why?"

"I know why he's there."

As they walked hurriedly out the store Chris got a call.

"Larabee."

"Chris," it was Buck, "A bomb threat was placed on a zoo. I'm heading over there right now with my team."

"Okay." Chris turned to John, "He's at a zoo with a bomb."

"No, trust me, he's at the bank!" John insisted.

"Trust you?" Chris repeated.

John fell back against his seat and shook his head, accepting that the man wouldn't.

Chris pulled out his phone with a sigh, "Vin, I want you to meet me at the bank with a couple men."

John Doe turned to look at him and Chris could read the gratitude in his face.


	12. Chapter 12

Chris pulled his car up to the front of the bank.

"Okay, so I'm going to give you a bullet proof vest. What I'm about to suggest is technically putting you, a civilian, in danger. Are you okay with that?"

"If it stops that man from stealing my property then yes." John said determined.

"Yeah well we'll have to see how much of that actually is all of your property or if you stole some of it."

The two got out of the car and Chris put his bullet proof vest and gave the extra to John Doe.

"Now don't do anything to rile him up too much. Remember he doesn't know you're alive and we don't want a death on our hands here."

"I don't put myself in harm's way because I get kicks out of it. Everything I do is done with careful consideration of the risk."

"Sure thing." Chris snorted, "Are you an actuary as well?"

"What are you referring to?"

But before Chris could say anything, John was already heading up the stairs into the back.

"Hell, he's definitely going to get himself killed."

"I'm in position." called Vin in his radio.

"Stand by." Chris ordered.

They had entered the bank but everything seemed normal except that the televisions were streaming the zoo and Buck's team trying to disarm the bomb. Everyone in the bank had stopped working and were crowded around the video being streamed.

"This should be easy to spot him at least." muttered John.

They looked around and saw a lonely security guard sitting behind a desk on the far side.

"Does that not appear strange to you?" John asked Chris.

"Someone still has to guard the money."

"Yeah, but normal people in this situation would still show a little curiosity and be watching, they'd be letting their guard down. This person isn't watching at all."

Chris and John watched as the guard got up from his desk and began to walk over to where the door to the safety deposit boxes were held.

"That's him!" John called.

"I see him." said Chris as he pulled out his gun.

"D.C.P.D. Stop right there and turn around."

The security guard turned around to show that it was the store owner disguised as a guard. His face when he saw the John though was as if he was seeing a ghost. The man took a step back then held up one had with a detonator and then another pointing a gun at John Doe.

"This man is a whole new level of stupid." John marveled.

"Shut up, I don't want you to rile him, remember." hissed Chris.

"Why don't I just talk to him? I'm good at that." John said and walked a few paces away from him.

"No get back here!" Chris hissed louder and maintained his gun on the bomber.

"Looks like we meet again, but you seem to have an advantage over me, seeing how I don't remember you all that well. I heard you tried to kill me."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure I get it right this time." the man said as he readjusted his grip on the gun.

"No, I think I'll walk out of here alive like I more or less did the last time you tried. You know why, it's because you're an idiot."

"Not helping!" Chris growled.

John ignored him, "Look, I know you're some kind of drug addict slash dealer and you're always looking to get your hands on more cash. For your recreational fun no doubt. You obviously think that whatever I have in my deposit box will be worth enough to give you said money. The problem however for you is that what I have in there is utterly worthless to anyone but me. So why don't you stop all this and get out of here alive while you still can."

The man shook his head and was grinning now, "I know you're lying. I know you're a con artist and all you people do is lie. I know there's something valuable in there and I'm going to take it. You should be more concerned about yourself, because as soon as that television goes on a commercial, this place will blow up."

"Now I know you aren't coming in here to rob me and then proceed to blow yourself up along with the rest of us. You must've thought of some plan for your safety."

"The vault is strong enough to protect me from the blast."

"Well I guess you shouldn't waste any more time because that bomb of yours may explode in any minute."

"I'm going to manually set it off."

"Smart man." John said as he eyed the detonator. He took a couple steps forward and the man became more agitated.

"Step back, John." Chris ordered.

"Don't worry detective Larabee, he obviously didn't think this far ahead. He knows he lost." To the bomber he said, "It's over. Why don't you come quietly?"

The man shook his head, "I may not have gotten what you were hiding, but I at least won't be going to jail." He held up the detonator and was about to push.

John reacted and ran forward.

The man jerked and fired at John. The man's body fell to the floor.

Chris shot the man in the hand that was holding the detonator and another shot from Tanner from sniper's position farther out, hit him in the knee cap.

The man cried out in pain as the people watching television cheered. Chris took a minute to see what was going on.

Buck his team had successfully disarmed the bomb.

Chris' reinforcements came to drag the criminal away while he went to John Doe.

"Idiot." he scowled as he dropped to a crouching position.

John Doe hadn't moved yet and he pulled him till he was lying on his back.

Chris slapped him across the face and John bolted to a sitting position and then groaned in pain.

"Agh…" he grunted.

"It's your own fault for jumping in the way."

"Well, I figured if I was close enough, the only thing he'd be able to aim for was my chest which was protected. I didn't account for the pain from the impact."

"No one does usually."

Chris helped him to stand and helped him outside of the bank.

When police started to arrive the people in the bank began to take notice.

"What did you say earlier? That you calculate everything and don't put yourself in harm's way? I'd say getting shot counts as putting yourself in harm's way. Are you always this reckless?" asked Chris when they were in the car.

"Again, I knew my odds of survival-"

"Cut the crap."

"Honestly I don't know what came over me."


	13. Chapter 13

Chris set a metal box on the desk where John Doe was seated at.

Buck and the others had also came for the unveiling of the identity of John Doe.

John took the key which Chris had retrieved from the bomber and unlocked the box.

Lifting the lid up, everyone leaned in to look at the contents.

"I don't get it." said JD after a while, "It's just photos and letters."

"That and my real ID and passport." said John as he held it out to Chris.

Chris took them and looked at the name and smiled, "Ezra P. Standish, it suits you."

"Ezra? Does that mean we all lost the bet? asked Josiah.

Everyone laughed.

"I guess the great mystery is over." sighed Vin.

"I still don't get why the bomber wanted these." frowned JD.

"He thought that my valuables, in this case my name and happy memories was something he could sell for money."

"There's nothing more valuable than your identity." Josiah smiled.

"How did he forget who he was?" asked JD.

"Pretending to be one person for so long, you forget who you actually were." Josiah explained.

"My brain was mixed with all my identities and I couldn't remember which one was the true me."

"Well I'm glad you found yourself, pard." smiled Buck

"What happens now?" asked JD.

Everyone turned to Chris and Ezra.

Ezra sighed, "I admit that I did steal those paintings that were stored in my storage unit. Perhaps though, my assistance in taking down a murderer can alleviate my sentence?"

"That is for the chief and justice department to decide." Chris answered. "I'm to talk to them in ten minutes and deliver my report."

"But you'll fight for him right?" asked Vin.

"Gentleman, I don't require detective Larabee to fight for me. If it is to be my fate to go to prison, I will go with honor."

"How do we know you won't try and escape like you did in the hospital?" asked Nathan.

"You don't." Ezra grinned.

"Well I'm going to miss you, whether you're hitting the slammer or walking a free man." Buck offered.

"It was fun." Vin nodded.

"JD can give you a few more of his jokes before you leave." Josiah teased.

"They're actually funny. You guys just don't have a sense of humor!" JD snapped.

"JD, your jokes has little chance making someone laugh as you'd have in telling that girl you like how you feel." Buck teased.

JD flushed and shoved the older man, "Shut up, that was a secret."

"To who? Everyone knows how you feel."

The two began to argue and Ezra watched in amusement.

Josiah and Nathan got up to go back to work leaving Vin and Chris.

"Can you watch him while I go to my meeting?"

"Sure thing, cowboy." Vin smiled and sat down at Larabee's desk while the man himself walked into the police chief's office.

Ezra and Vin watched as Chris shook hands with a man and sat down in a chair to begin talking.

"Don't worry Ez, I'm sure Chris will do right by you."


	14. Chapter 14

An hour later the people in the office were still talking.

"Do you know why it can be taking so long?" Ezra asked impatiently.

"I'm sure it's all necessary. But it seems that Chris is defending you because the meeting would've been over by now if he wasn't."

Just then the doors opened and Chris came out. He looked tired as he approached them.

"I put my neck on the line Standish and said you would use this second chance wisely and won't screw up, and that doesn't mean by getting caught. If another piece of art gets stolen and I even have a feeling that it was you then you're done."

"I'm given a pardon?"

"Yes, but remember, we have you down for assaulting an officer, theft and escaping custody."

"I'm sure you'll never let me forget." Ezra said as he shook Vin's hand and then Chris'. "Thank you, and thanks again for having trusted me."

The End

*News report of another art piece having being stolen during sometime in an evening party. Police say this is the work of a professional*

Chris walked into the busy police station, the sounds of phones going off and everyone talking at once now were white noise to him. As he scanned the room, making his way to his desk, he saw someone occupying his chair. Frowning, he picked up his pace.

"Can I help you?" Chris asked, barely keeping his anger hidden.

The man in the chair looked up and grinned. Chris didn't recognize him in his own clothes and clean shaved face.

"The hell are you doing here Standish? How did you even make it pass the guard?"

"I told them I came here to see you." Ezra said as he stood and showed off his visitor's badge.

"What do you want, I'm kind of busy with a case right now." Chris said as he took his chair.

"I know. I heard about the stolen painting."

Chris eyed him suspiciously.

"Don't worry I'm not involved in any way." Ezra said as he held up his hands.

"I didn't think you are, but that does raise the question why you're here talking to me."

Ezra sat down in the chair next to Chris' desk, careful not to crease his clothes, "Let me help you on this one."

"You wanna help?"

"This is what I do for a living. I know how these people think."

"So you want to be a consultant? What is life to hard out there that you're too good to get a job doing honest labor?"

"Honest labor was not what I was brought up to do."

Chris looked at his desk for a minute before turning to Standish.

"I'll ask chief Travis, but if he says no then that's it and you can start working on your resume somewhere else."

While Chris was in the office with Travis, Buck and Vin walked over to where Ezra was.

"I didn't expect to see you back here so soon." Buck joked.

"I came to offer my services."

"Where's Chris?" asked Vin.

"Speaking to your supervisor to gain his approval on the subject."

"That'd be great if you could. You know a whole lot more on this then us." said Buck.

"Well, let's just hope your chief Travis sees it that way."

The door to the office opened and Chris walked out. He didn't say anything till he was stand next to them.

"Sorry Standish." The others all sighed and looked disappointed. Chris cracked a smile, "It looks like you're stuck with us a bit longer."

 **A/N: The End! I hope you enjoyed this little story, I know I had fun writing it. I kind of felt like a Blacklist (TV show) or White Collar (TV show) type of thing in the end where the criminal ends up working for the police. My big inspiration was looking at Ezra and his past with all of his aliases and what that could look like in a modern setting. Hope you all have a good rest of your days and feel free to review and tell me what you think.**

 **If it's for a sequel, like I said I can't. I can't afford to start a new series while I'm working on several others, but if you want to make a sequel from this yourself and ask questions then I'm happy to chat. Bye!**


End file.
